19 August 1966
by B A Cucumber
Summary: This is a drabble about the cherry bomb incident at a Beatles concert in Memphis in 1966. Nothing happened, but things easily might have taken a turn for the worse. So I came up with this 'what if' and ran with it. I hope you'll like it, I'll see where it will take me. I do not own the Beatles, so this is merely a concocted phantasy of mine to share with you. Enjoy.
1. If I Needed Someone

8:37

 _George was doing a fair job tonight_ , Paul thought and strummed along. The birds were going crazy, as ever, screeching and shrieking in ecstasy and drowning out every single note the lads played or sang. _What was the point in going to a concert and screaming your heart out?_

Paul listened to George in his head and watched his friend's lips form the words they had sung so many times before "If I had some more time to spend, then I guess I'd be with you, my friend," himself and John joining in at "If I needed someone."

"Had you come some other day, then it might not have been like this-"

The screaming changed, if only for a couple of seconds, being cut by a massive noise from what seemed out of nowhere before returning to, well, _normal_ crazy, but it made Paul turn towards Ringo who was jollily banging his drums as if he hadn't heard. Paul looked at John who shot him a radiant smile that said 'Play on, son.' And George sang on unfazed by any possible amp, lamp or speaker fuse blowing.

The next song was Paul's and he bravely threw himself into "Day Tripper" feeling slightly nauseous. Halfway through it, he felt the pain. A dull thud numbed his left shoulder and he kept missing chords. Quite annoyed with himself Paul tried to shake his arm back to life but failed.

 _Perhaps this was him getting too old for touring. Perhaps two concerts per day were just too much._

John and he launched into "Baby's in Black" and he found himself losing touch not only with the show, but with the whole situation. He realized then that something was very much not right. His arm gave out little pinpricks and felt generally hot, but it would not obey him. All he could do was hold the guitar and mime. _No one would notice anyroad._


	2. I Feel Fine

9:04

"Yesterday all my troubles seemed so far away," Paul sang and thought himself downright foolish, standing there holding a guitar and not properly playing. He was right though in thinking that nobody heard. _Nobody listened. What if this was the end? What if his arm would never work again?_

 _He needed a break. He needed a fag._

When they left off for break, Paul felt worn out and found himself leaning into the nearest wall.

"Y'alright, Paulie?" John brushed past him and nudged his side. Paul nodded weakly and rested his face against the concrete for comfort.

"Ye don't look it, man. Ye look a real shite!"

"Thanks, John," he managed a tired smile but kept his eyes firmly closed.

John eyed Paul suspiciously. The younger man was ghastly pale and looked as if he were about to faint.

"Paul, come on. I'm not daft, y'know? What's wrong?"

"There's nothing wrong with me," Paul whispered.

"Rubbish."

"Really. Just – me shoulder. Hurts."

"This one, eh?" John prodded the injured limb and Paul turned a shade paler still.

John unbuttoned Paul's coat and hissed at the red stains on the bassist's formerly white collar. He undid the vest, too, to reveal a bloodstained shirt.

"Look at ya!"

So Paul did and fainted. John held him in place and cursed under his breath. _How had Paul sustained these injuries? Why hadn't he told them?_

"How did this happen?"

"Dunno."

"That's no good, Paulie. Was that what the bang was? Were you shot? Hell, Paul! You should have said!"

"I know."

"Does it hurt? I bet it does? Can you move your arm?"

"Yeah, 'm alright. 'm fine, John. Don't fret. I'll muddle through."

"You think I'll let you get back onstage, son? Forget it. If anywhere, you're going to hospital."

"John-"

"WHAT?"

"'m fine!"

"Yeah?" John let go of Paul whose knees gave and who slid down the wall with a low moan until John caught him again, "I can see that, Princess. Yer totally fine."


	3. Yesterday

9:12

"What's going on?" George asked biting his sandwich.

"Nothing, I'm fine," Paul muttered and John contradicted, "He's not. Paul's been shot."

"What? When?" George took another bite, "Was that what the bang was?"

"Dunno," Paul groaned.

"Does it hurt?" George asked curiously and John snarled, "What do you think?"

"Can you move your arm?"

Paul nodded but did not prove his statement.

"Come on, Princess, ball us a fist, will ya?" John ordered.

When nothing happened, John told Paul to punch him which made Paul smile a little.

"Like tha'?" Paul looked stressed and the other two men watched his hand until John told Paul to relax.

"Yeah, Paulie, just like that," John said and sighed inaudibly. Both he and George had seen the lie that was to John's words: Paul's fingers had not moved an inch.


End file.
